Arizona Sky

by Ginger Simpson

  Zach pushed his hat further down on his head and went back outside. At the hitching post, he untied the horses and led them toward the livery stable at the end of the dimly lit street. If the ride from the stage station had been a longer one, he wouldn’t have left the animals unattended for so long. A good cowboy always saw to his horse first and everything else came later. He reached back and rubbed Storm’s snout. “Forgive me, boy? Hunger got the best of me.”

  As he neared the weathered building, a clanging noise in an adjoining lean-to grew louder. Zach stopped outside the closed entrance. “Hello inside,” he hollered. The hammering ceased and the door creaked open.

  “Evenin’. Can I help you? Soot and dirt covered the blacksmith’s apron. His muscular arms strained the material of his plaid shirt as he swiped beads of sweat from his brow.

  Zach squared himself and glanced up at the man who stood a good foot taller. “Got a couple horses here that need tendin’. Hope you have room.”

  “Sure do. Take ‘em to the stable…double doors. Got four empty stalls, take your pick.” He pointed to his left.

  Zach led the animals inside. The mingled odor of fresh hay, manure, and traces of smoke filled the stable. He put Odessa’s mare into one stall, then secured Storm in the one adjacent. After removing the animal’s saddles, bridles and blankets, he hung everything on the wooden railing separating the two horses. Following the clanging, he found his way back to the lean-to.

  The fire raging within a stone pit turned the air stifling. Zach’s gaze wandered to the assorted leather straps hanging on the wall, and then to the glowing horseshoe the smithy pounded atop a huge anvil mounted on a block of wood. Grimacing at the ear-splitting noise, he tapped the man on the shoulder while keeping a wary eye on the smoldering iron. “How much do I owe you?”

  The blacksmith didn’t bother to look up. “You can settle when you pick up the animals. I charge two bits a day for board and feed.”

  “Sounds fair. Thank y—” The resumed pounding drowned him out. Zach shrugged, then turned and sauntered out the door.

  * * *

  Stabling the horses hadn’t taken nearly enough time. Zach sure didn’t want to invade Odessa’s privacy, so he lingered outside the boarding house, heaved a sigh, and retrieved the toothpick he’d stuck behind one ear. With the thin wood bobbing from his lips, he crossed his arms, leaned against the building and contemplated his future.

  The scene at the stage station had weighed heavily on his mind since arriving in town. He’d thrashed about the notion of reporting it to the sheriff, but given his own mission, wondered if making himself known to the law was such a good idea. The fact that Odessa hadn’t suggested reporting the killings surprised him.

  Before he talked himself out of going, Zach made a beeline for the Sheriff’s office. Pa would expect him to do the right thing, and this might be the last honorable deed Zach would do for a while.

  Pausing outside the Sheriff’s door, Zach rubbed a growing ache in the back of his neck. What he wouldn’t give to be ten years old again and not carry the weight of a man’s problems. He straightened and turned the knob.

  “Evenin’, Sheriff.” He peered around the open door at the person seated behind a desk. “Got a minute to talk?”

  “Sure, c’mon in and have a seat.” The graying man gestured toward an armless chair.

  “I’d rather stand.” Zach removed his hat and held it waist high. Beneath it, the fingers of his other hand fisted and unfisted. The lawman’s head-to-toe assessment made Zach’s stomach churn. The words he sought stuck behind a lump in his throat.

  “Well…speak up, young man.” The lanky lawman crossed his arms and waited.

  “D-don’t rightly know where to start.” Zach swallowed. “Me and my lady friend stopped at a stage station a couple hours from town… and found three people dead inside.”

  The sheriff straightened in his chair and leaned on the desk, eyes wide. “You can’t mean Gus and Netta Olson’s place? Why, I just saw them day before yesterday.”

  Zach lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, sir, but I believe we saw those very names in the family Bible. Were they an older couple?”

  The lawman stood and combed his fingers through his thinning hair. “They were, but you said three people.”

  “Yes, sir.” Zach gazed up. “Another man. Dressed right nice, he was. More like a banker than a wrangler.”

  “No tellin’ who that was. So many people pass through there…” The Sheriff sank back into his chair. “Any idea who did it?” Creases marred his brow.

  “Whoever killed them was long gone when we arrived. But, we buried all three next to the house and quoted the gospel over their graves.” He cocked his head. “Friends of yours?”

  “Known them for a couple of years. Nice people. I’ll miss them.” His soulful eyes turned stony. “How do I know you didn’t do it?”

  Zach fixed the man with a steady gaze. “Do you think I’d be dumb enough to come tell you about it if I did?”

  “I guess you’re right. It would be a rather stupid thing to do. But…did you see anything suspicious? Anything that might help me find who—”

  “The place looked like it had been ransacked and all three shot dead with a bullet to the head. I wish I could tell you more.”

  The lanky lawman stood again and extended his hand across the desk. “I appreciate you stopping by, Mr...?”

  Zach took the proffered palm. “Zach’ll do. And you’re welcome.”

  “I’m Dan Brody, and if you think of or hear anything else that may help, let me know. There’s sure to be a reward. In the meantime, I’ll try to notify their next of kin.” He released Zach’s hand. “You stickin’ around a while?”

  Was the lawman suggesting or asking? The hair on the back of Zach’s neck bristled. “Not for long. I have an errand to tend to then I’ll be on my way home.”

  “Where’s home?” Brody smiled.

  “Ah…Pho… I mean Tucson. Got a ranch there.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue.

  “Well, have a safe trip…but a word of caution while you’re here. This town is growing rowdier by the day. You might have noticed the gallows just built at the end of the street. We’ll have a hanging as soon as the circuit judge gets here.”

  * * *

  Zach’s boots thudded on the walkway as he made his way back to the boarding house. His visit to the sheriff’s office had gone smoothly enough, so why wouldn’t his stomach stop churning? Now he could tell Odessa he’d done the proper thing by reporting the killings to the local law official. At least he hoped he’d done the right thing. He glanced over his shoulder, searching for the structure the Sheriff had mentioned, and his breath seized.

  Moonlight highlighted the gallows’ wooden framework at street’s end. A knotted noose quivered in a light breeze. Frozen in place, he grasped his throat and swallowed hard. Had the man about to be hanged robbed a stage? Zach turned away and hastened his stride. A hot bath at the boarding house sounded like just what he needed to relax and ponder his next move.

  Ahead, two steps led to the elevated walkway in front of the saloon. As he raised his boot to ascend, a hand reached from a narrow alleyway and snared him into the darkness. Before he could call for help, a fist pummeled his midsection, stealing his breath and sending a jolting pain through his innards.

  “My mother always said that I would die with my shoes on.”- Steve Long’s last words after having asked to have his shoes removed before he was hanged.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zach groaned, grabbed his stomach and doubled over. His hat tumbled into the dirt. Gasping for breath, he sank along a splintery wall and peered up into pitch blackness at the form looming over him. “W-who are you?”

  “A messenger from Mr. Spence,” a deep voice rasped. “He wants to know what the hell is keeping you.”

  “I…I planned to be here sooner, but I ran into a little problem.” Zach grimaced at the bile rising in the back of his throat.

  �
�That little problem wouldn’t be a purty little blonde with blue eyes, would it?” The man guffawed. “I’ll gladly take her off yer hands.”

  Still clutching his gut, Zach staggered to his feet. “That won’t be necessary. She’s leaving on the stage day after tomorrow. Tell your boss I’m…” He swallowed hard. “We can meet wherever he wants as soon as she’s gone.”

  “I’ll deliver the message, but here’s a warnin’…Pete don’t take kindly to bein’ disappointed. I’ll leave word at the boardin’ house about where to meet up with him.”

  Moonlight cast a long shadow as the burly man stepped up onto the walkway and strode off. His musky smell lingered and blended with the strong stench of urine from the hitching rail on the street.

  Zach took a few minutes to regain strength, then bent to retrieve his hat and stepped out of the alley. He slapped his Stetson against his pant leg, plopped it back atop his head and scanned both sides of the empty street. His stomach ached but the tension that gripped his body eased at seeing no trace of his assailant. How had the man known about Odessa, or even where they were staying, for that matter? Obviously, Pete Spence knew he’d arrived.

  At slightly over six feet tall, Zach considered himself a big man, but after seeing the blacksmith and Spence’s messenger, he didn’t feel quite as intimidating. Could he have held his own if his attacker hadn’t taken him by surprise?

  Ashamed of his trembling knees, he squared his shoulders and took a cautious first step. His gaze locked on the boarding house, and he hurried in that direction. Despite an easy gait, his footfall sounded like distant thunder in the silence. He breathed a sigh of relief once he stepped into the building. Hand on his roiling stomach, he made his way upstairs and knocked on the door at the top of the staircase.

  “Who is it?” Odessa’s sweet voice called from inside.

  “It’s me.” Zach bit his bottom lip as a pain zipped through his middle.

  She opened the door and curtsied, sweeping the skirt of her new dress out to the side. A faint smell of lavender wafted around her. Ringlets from her upswept hair, still damp from her bath, hung in an attractive fringe about her slender neck. Her clean cheeks held a rosy hue rather than grit gray, and her eyes sparkled like the stars in the Arizona sky. For a moment he forgot his pain.

  He flashed a wide grin. “My, don’t you look pretty.” He yearned to hold his aching belly, or at least, sit down, but he remained stoic—thumbs hooked in his front pockets.

  Odessa’s smile disappeared. She snared his arm and pulled him inside. “What happened to you?” She walked in a circle, surveying him.

  “Whadda you mean?” He shrugged, certain the movement etched pain on his face.

  She stopped in front of him. “You’re as pale as a ghost, and have wood splinters sticking out of your sleeve. And...the seat of your pants looks like you rolled around in the dirt.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you all right?”

  He cleared his throat. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just took a little tumble.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” She raised a brow.

  “Yep. A bath, and I’ll be fine.” He turned his face away and grimaced.

  Her stockings hung from the back of the chair next to the window. He glanced down at her bare toes peeking out below her hem and sighed. “I wish I had enough money to buy you everything you need.”

  What he really wished was that he’d never brought her here. Instead of finding a safe haven for her, he’d made things worse—brought her to a pit of vipers.

  She caressed his cheek then crossed to the chair and fingered the white cotton draped there “You’ve done more than enough. Soon as I find a job, I’ll be able to pay you back.”

  Zach’s mouth gaped. Before he spoke she opened the door. “I’ll go ask someone to fetch your bathwater. I’ll be downstairs. Let me know when you’re finished so I can come back up.”

  When the door closed behind her, Zach sunk onto the bed and cradled his head in his palms. The idea of joining up with Pete Spence and his gang had been foolish from the beginning, and involving Odessa made it worse. Somehow, he had to get her on the stage as soon as possible. Fatigued, he rolled back onto the bed like a melting candle. He stared at the ceiling, seeking answers, but none came. A knock on the door set his heart to thudding. “W-Who’s there?”

  “I have your hot water, sir.”

  Zach took a deep breath and stood. A good long soak was just what he needed. After the buck-toothed lad had emptied both pails and left, Zach shed his clothes and slid into the warming comfort.

  Resting his head against the tub’s curving end, Zach’s bent knees protruded above the water’s surface. Ugly purple knuckle marks already marred his white belly.

  His gaze wandered to his saddlebags on the floor. Inside, only one clean shirt remained. He’d brought one other pair of pants, and they were already dirty, but not as filthy as the ones he’d just shed. Rolling around in the ally wasn’t something he planned. He’d have to do laundry before the tub was emptied. Since it wasn’t fitting to present in public in one’s long underwear, he’d have to wear the less soiled pants downstairs to get Odessa. He soaped himself and recognized the familiar lavender scent. Not a manly aroma but better than sweat and dirt.

  His dilemma spun in his mind. How could he get Odessa on tomorrow’s stage? He’d have to be stern and insist. Besides, he barely had enough money to sustain one person, let alone two.

  * * *

  Zach dunked his denims in and out of the tub. Streams of muddy liquid drizzled back into the water, turning it murky brown. Odessa perched on the bed and watched him. His mind spun, trying to formulate the right words to broach a sensitive subject, but before tackling that task, he wrung water from his pants and suspended them from the bedpost to dry. He fixed his gaze on Odessa and cleared his throat. “There’s a stage leaving at one tomorrow afternoon and I want you to be on it.”

  Her lips dipped into a frown. “B-but, I thought you were going with me to Phoenix. Remember, I planned to get a job and work until you finished your business here?” She cocked her head. “By the way, you never mentioned the type of business?”

  His shoulders tensed. “It doesn’t matter, you can’t stay here. This place is far too dangerous. I’m sure you must have noticed there aren’t many places suitable for a young lady to work.”

  “What about the mercantile? The least you can let me do is ask before you send me packing.”

  Zach crossed his arms and broadened his stance. “I have to report to work tomorrow and I simply can’t spare the time to worry about you. You’re going and that’s that.”

  She sprung to her feet. “You aren’t my boss.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m not, but I am the person who’s supporting you at the moment. That’s another problem. I barely have enough to pay my own way. After I pay for your passage, I’ll be almost broke.”

  “All the more reason for me to find a job.” She flashed a defiant look.

  He locked gazes with her. “Odessa, you can help me the most if you just go to your aunt’s.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. First thing in the morning I’ll buy your ticket.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going to spend the night in the stable. Lock the door after me.”

  She grabbed his arm. “I’ll not hear of it. There’s plenty of room right here.”

  Surely she wasn’t proposing they share the bed. He had to ask. “And where will I sleep?”

  “Once the tub is gone, I’ll make you a pallet on the floor. All we need is another blanket. We already have two pillows. The floor can’t be any less comfortable than the livery. Besides, sharing a room isn’t different from sleeping alongside each other under the stars.”

  She had a point. Besides, he’d feel better not leaving her alone, especially after the remark made by his attacker. Zach nodded. “I’ll go down and have them come for the tub and ask for more covers while I’m there.”

  As he descended the worn staircase, he pond
ered how quickly she’d given up the fight to stay in Tombstone.

  * * *

  The bed’s metal frame squeaked when Odessa rolled over and snuggled down beneath the patchwork quilt. Despite worn curtains, moonlight filtered through the window and outlined the room’s meager furnishings. Faint music and laughter from the saloon drifted through the thin walls. She eyed the lump on the floor that was Zach. Even in the darkness, the steady rise and fall of his blanket with each breath provided the evidence she awaited. He finally slept.

  Moving slowly to minimize the bed creaking, she edged to the side and lowered her feet to the floor. She stood, frozen in place, and stared at Zach, waiting for any reaction. A slight snore rumbled through the silence.

  She tiptoed to the nail where her dress hung and slipped the newly-purchased frock over her head. Feeling around the area, she found her shoes and stockings. She slipped them on. Inching toward the door, she kept her gaze fixed on Zach’s sleeping form. How would she explain being up and dressed? Her heart thudded so loudly she heard it.

  Odessa took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. A sliver of light from the hallway sliced the darkness. She held her breath and paused, but Zach’s continued snoring drained the tenseness from her shoulders. She crept out into the hallway and eased the door closed behind her.

  At the top of the staircase, she splayed her fingers through her hair and smoothed her skirt. Like she told Zach, he wasn’t her boss. If she wanted to stay in Tombstone, she needed to find a job, and there wasn’t much time to ask around. Maybe not everyone went to bed early.

  She stepped down the stairs. The husky man at the desk ogled her in a way that made her shiver. Squaring her shoulders, she chided herself for being such a baby. What could possibly happen here in the boarding house?